


it's over, don't cry

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, a prompt thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Things fall apart before Alex notices. They implode quietly, the bang of a universe replaced by a whimper that takes everything with it as Kara walks away, Kryptonite on her suit, in her hands. They fall apart and she wonders how she'd missed it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of a headcanon that ed1505 offered up on tumblr. You can find it [here](http://ed1505.tumblr.com/post/158524725864/kalex-musical-headcanons-8). I highly advise reading it because this fic starts as a sort of aftermath of that. I couldn't find a way to do it that I wasn't already doing so here goes.

By the time she notices it, she hasn’t spoken to Kara in months, hasn’t so much as glanced her way because all she can see, all she lets herself see, is Maggie. She hasn’t been there and it confuses her, because Kara should be alright, should be flying instead of falling.

She shouldn’t be sitting there with Kryptonite in her knuckles, dusting her uniform, as she wavers on the table.

“What –”

Before she can finish the question, there’s a groan from the other woman, a retching sound as she throws up into the bucket one of the med team’s agents had provided. The air turns acidic for a moment before the filters kick in, reminds Alex that she’s still Kara’s doctor, still the one who should be handling her injuries, not the med team.

Moving forward, she’s tugging on a pair of gloves when Kara turns to her, eyes red, cheeks blotchy. There are shadows that shouldn’t be there, a weariness that comes from more than a lack of sleep.

She wants to smooth it away, to feel the heaviness fall from her Kryptonian, but Kara is leaning away from her, pushing herself further and further away until all Alex can do is stare at her, wonder where her Kara has gone. This girl, this woman, isn’t her, can’t be her when the Kara she knows craves her touch, seeks it out at every opportunity.

This isn’t Kara, but she doesn’t focus on that, doesn’t pay attention to the way her heart thuds against her ribs every time Kara won’t look at her. After a while, it becomes too many to count anyway.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she asks harshly, rage painting her words with a venom she hasn’t used in a while with Kara. “Why were you even out there?”

The other woman still won’t look at her, won’t meet her eyes, but there’s a stiffness to her muscles now. There’s a tension that hadn’t been there before.

“I was trying to reunite a dozen families.”

“At the cost of your life?”

Kara growls, tries to pull away, but she’s still too weak from Kryptonite exposure, still too close to human for it to mean much. Perversely, Alex is glad of it, would leave the shards where they are if only to keep Kara this close to her after what she’d done.

“It’s my responsibility to keep these people safe, Alex. My planet’s destruction displaced them, and now I need to protect them. If I die, then so be it.”

There’s a nobility to her voice, a resignation that makes Alex seethe, makes her dig her nails into the soft tissue between the bones of Kara’s hand until she hisses in pain. It’s not enough of a reprimand, but she doesn’t even know where to begin, how to address the guilt that Kara’s been carrying around all this time.

She doesn’t know how she’s missed it, how she hasn’t seen it at all during the past few months. She doesn’t know how she could have ignored something so significant, so important that it seems to have consumed Kara completely, pushed her to a point she might not be able to come back from in the future.

“So that’s it? You just go off and become a martyr and you don’t even care?” She holds up Kara’s hand, presses down on it harder. “You punched through a fucking wall of Kryptonite, Kara! You would have died if my team hadn’t been out there.”

“And?”

Alex lets go, pulls back at that response. There’s something cold in her voice, something that reminds her of dark clothes and skin that pulsed red as her arm was broken.

“Kara…”

She shakes her head, hops off the table. It takes a moment for Alex to realise that she’s gathering her cape and boots, both items having been stripped off while Kara had been unconscious.

“Kara what are you – you can’t just leave. If the shards remain in your skin, it could have permanent effects on your body. At least let me finish removing them before you go.”

“It doesn’t matter if they’re there or not.” Kara looks at her then, tilts her head. The way her eyes darken makes Alex feel as if she’s looking through her. “Besides, you’ll be late for your thing with Maggie.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you were telling O’Brian about this morning. Some kind of weird hipster wine thing, right? If you don’t go now, you won’t make it in time.”

“That…that doesn’t matter.” She cringes even as she says it, knows that Maggie will be upset if she doesn’t make it, but she doesn’t care. She looks at Kara and she sees a stranger, doesn’t see the girl who’d grown up by her side for all those years. Stepping forward, she grabs Kara’s shoulders, forces her to meet her gaze. “You nearly died out there. Wine tasting doesn’t matter when you compare it to that.”

Kara scoffs, pulls away. Alex is forced to move in front of the only exit there is, forced to stand between Kara and what she wants in a way she hasn’t done in years.

“Move, Alex.”

“Make me.”

Kara doesn’t reply, doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to for Alex to see the way the fight drains out of her, the way she just gives up because she refuses to hurt her. It should make her feel guilty, should make her feel some kind of remorse for manipulating the woman like that, but she pushes it down, forces herself to stare down the only alien she’s ever been truly afraid of.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m sure that all traces of Kryptonite are gone, Kara. I don’t care if I have to stand here and throw the shards across the room. They’re coming out one way or the other.”

“Why?” Alex frowns at the question. “Why do you care now?”

“Kara—”

“No!” There’s fury in her gaze, a kind of betrayal that Alex can’t face on her own. “No. You haven’t cared about me in months, Alex! Months!  So why should me killing myself be a problem now? Why is it a problem if it’s directly in front of you but not when every day I’ve felt like I’ve lost more and more of my home?”

“Kara, I…”

Alex trails off, not sure where to begin, not sure how she’s supposed to fix something that she didn’t know was broken. All she knows is that Kara is looking at her like it hurts, like somehow being around her causes her to ache in ways that kryptonite doesn’t.

She hates it, hates that her only response is to step aside, to watch Kara sweep past her and leave in a whirl of red and blue. She wants to say something, to grab onto her and just hold her close, but she stays back, keeps her space.

Right now, she knows that Kara will reject her, will push her away as much as she’s pushed Kara away. She knows, and so she stays, watches until her Kryptonian is gone, her heart burning as she finally lets herself see the parts of her life that are fading away.


	2. Chapter 2

She flies and flies and flies. The air is cold, colder than she’s ever experienced on her own, but she doesn’t care about the way it bites her skin, the way it seeps into her suit. She doesn’t feel the discomfort of the cold the way others do, doesn’t feel the way it melts into her skin.

That’s the benefit of this planet’s sun, she thinks as she swerves, avoids a bank of storm clouds, swoops and circles back to National City. The solar energy she absorbs becomes kinetic energy beneath her skin, becomes a layer of heat energy that prevents the cold from breaking further than her uniform. It becomes another layer of alien-ness, of being other to the very people she protects.

It becomes another layer of loneliness that refuses to go away, to disappear when she needs it to the most.

She dives, closes her eyes and pulls up just before she hits the closest surface, the D.E.O. building. The kryptonite still in her system sets her stomach rolling, forces her to stop, to have to breathe before she can do much else than this. It makes her want to throw up and, for the first time in a long time, she feels the telltale signs of sickness before she’s looking for the nearest open gutter, spewing out her lunch, blood mixed in with digested food.

The acid burns her nose, makes it worse, but she welcomes it, welcomes any sign of weakness in that moment that could put her on Alex’s level. Unwelcome, however, is the need for comfort, for contact that she no longer has available to her. Alex won’t come, can’t come any more than she can care about Kara’s location at the moment.

She listens carefully, calculates the time. Six thirty five. Twenty five minutes to seven. It should be innocuous, should not mean as much as it does but she can’t help herself, can’t help but zero in on Alex’s pulse, the rhythm of the blood in her veins as her heart beats, and sighs in relief. She isn’t drinking, isn’t indulging when she has every right to.

It’s selfish, this need to be aware of her. It’s something she should give up, a need she should put to rest now that Alex has someone else to look out for her, but there’s a part of her that can’t. There’s a part of her that needs to anchor itself in Alex somehow, that needs her if she wants to be able to stay here, to stay on earth and be something other than little Kara Danvers, CatCo reporter extraordinaire, and doesn’t that hurt to think? To feel?

Doesn’t it hurt that she can’t even share these thoughts with Alex anymore? Doesn’t it hurt that there’s a part of herself that dies every day that she doesn’t see her? That crumbles every time someone asks her about Alex, about why she isn’t there anymore in the most tangible and intangible of ways when she once permeated every part of Kara’s old life, of the person she used to be before Maggie, before Alex put so much distance between them that she’s not sure the gap was never there to begin with?

The thought makes her eyes burn, forces her to go home before she can break, before she can fall apart where someone can see. Supergirl isn’t meant to feel, isn’t meant to be anything less than a symbol of hope, of perfection and the things she can’t put a word to because doing so means she has to acknowledge everything she’s shaped herself to be in the image of Alex.

And isn’t it always Alex? Isn’t it always that perfect stance, the confidence and comfort in her own body that Kara’s always been envious of, even when Alex was breaking behind closed doors that she had never been allowed to see behind?

Isn’t it always Alex when she’s mad? Sad? Broken? Isn’t always Alex when every time she falls apart she needs a body to lean on, arms to wrap around her in a comfort she’d once thought she would never have again?

She flies into her home, strips off her uniform and changes into comfort clothes before settling on her couch. Curling around a pillow, she turns on the television, finds an old Fred Astaire movie, but nothing penetrates the fog of grief that encompasses her mind, the barrier between her and the world that prevents anything but Alex from getting in.

She misses her, misses every part of her that she knows and every part of her that she doesn’t. She misses the girl she’d known, misses the woman she’d been getting to know ever since she’d become Supergirl.

It should be impossible to miss something she doesn’t know, but this is Alex. This is the only person who’s been a constant in her life since she’d landed, the only person who’d been there for her to lean on, to seek out when she’d needed to escape the terror of her own head. This is the person who anchors her, the only person who’s ever managed to make her feel at home on this planet when everything else was closing in on her.

She misses her with all that she is and all that she isn’t. She wants her here, wants to be able to hold her, to slide her skin against Alex’s until their fingers are completely tangled and nothing can separate them. She wants her here where she can watch her, keep her safe and whole and there, always there until it’s like Alex never had to leave.

There’s a knock on the door, a familiar heartbeat. Kara’s heart rises and sinks. She doesn’t want company tonight, doesn’t want anyone to see her like this, to know that she’s capable of breaking. She doesn’t want anyone to know just how sick, how twisted her own feelings have become, tangled up in each other as they are now.

Mostly, she doesn’t want Alex to see her like this, not now, not when Alex is finally happy, is finally free while Kara feels like her whole world is falling. She doesn’t want her to come in, to make things better, when Kara knows that there’s somewhere else she would rather be, someone else she’d rather be with than her, not when she knows that Alex doesn’t want to be here like that.

The knocking continues, the heartbeat’s pace increasing. She knows it’s wrong, knows that she should answer, but every part of her is screaming not to, is screaming for her to stay on the couch, to ignore Alex’s frantic motions, the desperation in her knock.

“Come on, Kara. I know you’re home. Why won’t you let me in?”

She pulls the pillow over her head, chokes out a sob the longer Alex asks for her. She wants to move but she’s so tired of this push and pull, of the way Alex will reel her in, only to push her away again. She’s tired of giving in, of having her heart broken over and over again just because she can’t say no to this one human, to this one person who has her, who knows her better than anyone else in the world.

She’s tired of feeling like she’s not good enough, like she’s never going to be good enough for anyone. Not Clark. Not her aunt. Not Alex.

“Let me in, please? I know we haven’t been talking but you’re still my little sister. We’re still us, right? Right, Kara?”

She shakes her head, knows that Alex can’t see her but does it anyway. She shakes her head until the world is spinning and even then, she doesn’t stop because Alex can’t come in. Alex can’t see her like this when she has somewhere else to be.

Only, she forgets that Alex has a key, forgets that this used to be Alex’s haven before she’d moved in. She forgets that Alex will do anything to get to her, forgets that even now, even now Alex won’t stay away if she’s hurt, if she needs her care.

There’s the whine of metal against metal as the key slides into the lock, the click of the bars falling into place as Alex unlocks the door. She shrinks back into the couch when she hears the door finally unlock and slide open.

It hurts to remember, then, hurts to remember that Alex won’t leave her alone if she’s injured, won’t let her go if there’s a chance that things could go wrong.  It hurts when she remembers that this gap is as much hers as Alex’s and all she wants to do is retreat into it, separate herself from Alex so that she won’t hurt, even though every part of her is now screaming for her to get up, to go to her and just fall into her again.

The couch dips, arms wrap around her and she whimpers, turns into the body next to her. She hates herself for it, hates herself for giving in so easily but she can’t help herself. She can’t help but lean into Alex.

“Oh, Kara…”


	3. Chapter 3

That she has to break into Kara’s apartment, pick a lock that’s barely ever been used against _her_ , says a lot more to Alex than Kara herself does. That she has to check in with her, make sure she’s safe and secure in person…well that says even more, says something that Alex doesn’t want to have to face anytime soon.

She sighs as she holds her, pulls her to the couch. She’d lift her, but Alex is tired, so, so very tired, and all she wants to do is curl up and close her eyes. That she wants to do that with Kara is something she tries not to think too hard about.

Alex forces her down onto the couch, sits next to her and pulls her close. Kara struggles against her, tries to get away, but Alex holds her tight, strokes her hair in an effort to calm her down.

“Shh, Kara,” she says softly. “I know we haven’t spoken in a while but I’m here now. I’m right here and I’m not going to leave you. I’m never going to leave you alone in your head again, I swear.”

“You…you can’t…can’t promise that.”

Kara’s voice cracks as tears make it watery, and Alex’s heart breaks. This is her Kara, her sweet, kind alien sister and she’s so very sad. It breaks her, shatters her defenses until there is nothing left but the person she used to be with her, the person she’s forgotten how to be lately.

She gathers her close, strokes her fingers through Kara’s hair as she scratches her scalp. Kara melts into her and she’s glad that she can still remember how to do this, still remember how much Kara needs this more than anything else.

She struggles against Alex a bit, tries to get away, but Alex just holds her close, presses kisses against her hair and face until Kara is completely relaxed against her. She holds her tighter then, brings her as close as she can without crawling into her skin.

Kara’s shirt rides up, her fingers brushing against bare flesh, and Alex has to bite her lip, remind herself that they’re sisters, that this is normal for siblings as close as they are. She has to remind herself that just because she’s discovered her own sexuality, it doesn’t mean she’s suddenly attracted to every beautiful female she comes across.

“Stop…stop thinking…”

The words are a plea. For what, Alex can’t say, just that Kara is begging her for something. She’s asking her for something that she’s too scared to voice, and Alex can’t figure it out.

She furrows her brow, buries her face in Kara’s neck and blows a raspberry against her skin. Kara swats at her lightly, but she doesn’t push her away. Alex doesn’t think she wants her to leave, no matter how much she resists each change in position that Alex tries to initiate.

She runs her hand along her stomach, feels Kara shiver beneath her. Alex reasons that it’s because Kara is particularly sensitive today, the Kryptonite messing with her system more than usual. She frowns as she thinks that, picks up Kara’s hands to examine them.

“You’re still hurt.”

Kara shakes her head, moves to pull away, but Alex pulls her closer, flips them so that she’s straddling her. She grabs her hands, pulls them up to her eyes and examines them. There are glints of green everywhere, but nothing she can fix, can remove.

“You’re hurt. You left before I could make sure that all of this was removed.”

“Don’t care. Can take care of myself…”

Alex sighs. “I know. I know you can take care of yourself but I’m still supposed to protect you. That’s what I’m here for.”

She presses kisses against her knuckles, rubs the skin there. It’s raised and red, the infection from the Kryptonite setting in faster than she thought was possible. Kara flinches, tries to pull away, but Alex bites her gently, pulls her closer.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pull away from me, Kara. I’m here now and I want to take care of you. Don’t stop me from doing that, please.”

Kara whimpers, leans against her, and all Alex can do is press her closer, drop her hands to run her fingers through limp blonde hair. Kara’s not as bright as she usually is, not as golden as she’s used to her being. She’s not as happy, as shiny as she can be and it takes all Alex has to stay right there instead of finding the source of her misery.

She doesn’t need to anyway, doesn’t need to look for anything when it’s so clear that she’s the one causing this. Alex doesn’t need to because she knows exactly what she’s done now, is staring at it, feeling it as Kara cries against her.

She makes small soothing sounds, caresses her back. Her fingers move from her hair to the back of her neck, nails scratching against the skin there as Kara melts into her. She holds her closer, her skin itching to get closer to Kara, closer to everything that used to be her world.

Kara shifts, moves into her lap, and Alex has to maneuver them until she’s on her back and Kara is lying against her. When her fingers curl into her clothes, Alex turns, her back against the couch, Kara held close to her front.

“What do you need, Kara? Tell me what I can do to help you, please. Let me do something.”

Kara shakes her head, bites her lip as she pushes against her. Alex closes her eyes, lets a few of her own tears fall as she holds her.

“You’re gonna be okay. I’m here now, baby girl. I’m not going to leave you alone. Never again, I promise. I swear I’m going to be here when you need me.”

Kara shakes her head, presses against her more. She knows that she doesn’t believe her, that there’s something keeping her far from Alex, but she won’t let that stop her. Her sister needs her, needs everything that she can give her and she’s been so blind all this time.

God, she’s been so blind, so oblivious to everything. Rubbing her back, Alex has to take a breath of her own, shudders at the thought that she could have been so blind to Kara when she was right there in front of her. She has always been right there in front of her and somehow, somehow she’s missed that, missed everything that this girl means to her.

She presses kisses to her hair, whispers nonsense words of comfort to her until she gets her to crack a smile. When she gets it, Alex grins, runs her fingers through Kara’s hair again.

Kara snuggles into her, kisses her neck. Alex stiffens, her fingers stuttering to a stop for a second before she starts caressing her again. It’s just a kiss, it means nothing, can’t mean anything when they’ve been through this before.

Kara kisses her again, higher, closer to her jaw and Alex whimpers this time. They can’t do this, can’t be like this when she’s moved on, when she’s done everything right, done everything her mother wants her to do. Still, when Kara’s lips press against her skin, she can’t help but wonder, wish.

“Alex…”

“Kara..we can’t…”

“Please…I need…I need…”

She sighs, prays to a God that she doesn’t believe for the kind of strength she doesn’t have when Kara is so weak against her, so needy in a way that she’s rarely ever been. She prays for a strength that she doesn’t have when this gorgeous, alien woman is pressed against her like this.

“What do you need? What do you want?”

Kara shakes her head, her tears falling on skin. She presses her fingers into her neck, runs them down her spine. Kara arches into her then, lips parted half in a gasp, half in a strangled moan, and Alex has to close her eyes against the heat flooding through her.

“What do you need, Kara? Just tell me.”

Kara doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she surges up, presses her lips against Alex’s. She whimpers again, tries to pull away, but Kara shakes her head, kisses her again, slower this time.

“Please, Kara…”

“Need you…”

Kara flips them, presses Alex into the couch as she kisses her, and all Alex can do is sink into her, let herself just feel the way Kara’s body molds into hers. She remembers this, remembers nights spent just holding each other while it stormed outside. She remembers the way Kara would cling to her, would wrap herself around her and beg her to make everything stop.

Kissing her now, it feels like she’s begging again, begging for the world around her to stop and leave her alone. It feels like she’s begging for something that Alex wants to give her, begging for something she needs to give her.

When Kara bites her lip, her hands skid down her back in surprise. She presses into the base of her spine, pulls her closer. She wants her bury her beneath her skin, to keep her so close that no one can get to her, that no one can touch her the way she does.

She bites back, pushes up a bit to get more comfortable as she kisses her. They take it slowly, move against one another as they kiss. When Kara’s tongue enters her mouth, Alex sucks, traps her there. She wants her, needs her more than anything in that moment and she’s tired of denying herself this when Kara wants her, needs everything she’s offering her so willingly.

When Kara pulls back, she kisses her jaw, moves up to her ear and sucks on her earlobe. Alex gasps and sits up, taking Kara with her as she moans, tangles her fingers in blonde hair and keeps her head there.

“Oh God…”

She feels Kara grin against her, chuckles and strokes her back. She doesn’t need to see it to know what that smile looks like, doesn’t need to see the mischief in her eyes when Kara scratches her nails down Alex’s back. It makes her curse, makes her laugh, enough so that Kara pulls back completely, smiles at her with that smile Alex has come to call her own.

Kara reaches out, tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“You look so pretty like this.”

“Yeah?”

Kara ducks her head, nods shyly. There’s something so innocent about that move, something that tugs on Alex’s heart until she’s pulling her closer, smoothing the wrinkles in her brow as she presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey there, don’t hide from me like that, beautiful.”

Kara shakes her head, smiling slightly. Alex grins, hugs her close. After all the tears Kara’s shed over her, all the emotions she’s seemed to bottle up so tightly, it feels good to see her like this, to see the girl who would make everything light up when she needed it the most.

Alex ducks her head, kisses Kara softly. She can do this, can keep her like this if she wants. She’s not in Midvale anymore, has to convince herself that Kara wants more than this.

“Kara, come on. It’s me and you, just like it’s always been.  You know it’s me.”

She shakes her head again. “This isn’t real.”

“Of course it is. You and me, kid.” She wraps her arm around her shoulders, pulls her close. “Remember when it used to storm back home and you’d crawl into my bed? You’d curl up really small when the lightning flashed and I’d have to hold you down and cover your ears to keep the thunder away.”

Kara nods, curls her fingers around Alex’s collar. She pries her fingers away, tangles them and presses their hands against her heart.

“I used to do this for you to keep you from panicking, because the sounds of the storm reminded you of what you lost.”

Kara nods.

“You were so scared then and now you’re the bravest person I know, Kara. You’re my world and I’m so, so sorry I made you feel like I was pushing you away.” She presses kisses against her knuckles. “I’m sorry I made you cry, baby. Now, come on. Let me get these cleaned up and we can go to sleep, okay?”

Kara nods, but she doesn’t move. She just hugs Alex close, rests against her heart. Alex smiles, lets her. She can clean her hands later.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Alex sips at her coffee, looks at her watch before getting up and pacing through her apartment. There’s a restlessness inside of her, a need to be up and about. She needs to do something, to have her hands work on anything she can, but she can’t seem to make herself leave, can’t seem to make herself actually face the consequences of the things she’s done in the last twenty-four hours.

She’s had sex with Kara. That thought keeps cycling through her mind, keeps bringing her back to memories of how she felt beneath her fingers, how she’d given into Kara’s soft demands and whispered instructions so easily.

She clenches her fingers into a fist, releases them one by one as she recites the algorithm for her latest programming experiment. It calms her a little, forces her to slow down as she tries to remember the individual components of the script she’d been trying to build under Winn’s tutelage.

Her spine comes next as she stretches and listens for the cracks that echo in her ears. Kara hates when she does this, hates that Alex is usually tense enough to need to do it in the first place, but Kara isn’t there, isn’t around to scold her for what she would no doubt call lasting damage to her spine.

She snorts at that. She has an M.D. She knows her limits, knows what her body can and can’t handle better than Kara does. She knows what she can and can’t do and she’s not going to change that just because she decided to fuck her sister.

Still, she pauses after the first crack, shrugs it off and moves to get more coffee. Her hands are shaking as she pours and she has to stop, has to hold on to the counter and just breathe for a moment. She has to hold on to the counter to stand as her mind assaults her with images.

* * *

 

 _Kara smiles as she pins Alex to the bed, runs her fingers up her spine, lips and teeth leaving a dark trail as they follow. She squirms beneath her but she can’t get out, can’t fight Kara like this when she’s naked and vulnerable and_ pliant _under her touch. When Kara slides over her, nips at her neck, she whines, begs her to get on with it._

_Kara’s laughter is in her ear at that. “Wait a little for me?”_

_There are lips at the top of her back as fingers slide into her and she sighs in relief, relaxes then and there. She’s not even close to her breaking point, but Kara knows how to torture her already, how to draw her orgasms out of her, get her back to that point where her fingers move with an ease that no one else has ever managed with her._

_She’d be insulted by how easy this all seems for her, but this is Kara. This is the woman who knows her better than anyone else and she shouldn’t be surprised by this, shouldn’t be so shocked that she would know how to do this, but feeling and knowing are two different things, she thinks as Kara twists her fingers inside of her._

_She gasps out a curse, rocks back into her as Kara grins against her skin. Alex almost wants to turn, to wipe that smug little smile off of her face, but she doesn’t, too addicted to the way Kara feels inside of her to want to change that just yet._

* * *

 

She reaches behind her, taps a beat on her spine before forcing her fingers to steady, forcing her body to calm. She needs to focus, to keep her head in the present if she’s to get through the day and get back to Kara. She needs to be there for the next few hours if she’s to finish what she has to do and return to her.

The coffee is cold by now, undrinkable. She throws it out, sets a new pot to brew before grabbing the morning paper and looking at the headline. Cat Grant’s people must be working overtime to spin yesterday’s disaster into something positive, she thinks as she reads. There’s hardly a mention of Kara’s suicidal tendency and what is there is framed as some noble act of heroism.

At least Snapper Carr has the decency to recognize that much, she thinks as she reads, to recognize that Kara is still a hero, no matter how much she tries to punish herself for something that isn’t her fault. Her fingers clench around the paper and part of it tears in her grip. She has to let go, has to stop thinking about Kara doing that, punching that wall with no thought for herself.

She has to think of something else, anything else that will make her calm down, that will send her heart rate back to something that won’t have Kara swooping in at the wrong time. She smiles at the thought, lets it do what she needs it to.

Of course Kara will listen in, will try to take care of her the best way she knows how. She’d forbid her from it but she knows that it won’t help, that it will only make her worry more, and this is something she doesn’t want her to worry about. This is something she needs her to not think anything of at the moment, other than Alex fixing something that needed to happen to get her there.

She sighs, retrieves her coffee from the pot and moves to the table with the now partially ruined paper. Alex shakes her head as she sits, looks at the torn picture of Kara in her uniform. Maybe, she thinks, maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe she should just retreat, give in to all of her primal urges and just run until there’s nowhere else left to go. Except…

She can’t do that, can’t let her go. She can’t just step back and tell Kara that all of this is a mistake, is something they should bury like everything else they never talk about.

* * *

 

_Kara looks at her and everything stops in the moonlight. There’s a trembling hand reaching out for her and she can’t look at it, can’t see the destruction of what was for the building of what is. It’s something she’s never been good at, facing the ruin her choices cause._

_“Alex, look at me.”_

_She shakes her head, refuses Kara’s trembling voice. This is where they stop, where they end and she doesn’t want to see it before Kara says the words, before she admits to Alex being a mistake she doesn’t want to repeat._

_Fingers trace her lips before Kara kisses her again, slower this time, less hurried. Their kisses before were wild, desperate things that delineated from the slow, almost teasing nature of their love making, but this is something else. This is something meant to reassure, to make her feel at ease as the despair begins to set in._

_She gives in to her, lets her do what she wants with her mouth. All she can taste and feel is Kara, is this woman from another planet who’s changed her life completely. All she knows is Kara and everything that that knowledge brings with it._

_“Kara…”_

_Kara shakes her head, smiles at her calmly, almost as if she knows what’s going through Alex’s mind. She wonders if she does know after all, if she can read her better now than she had been able to before._

_“Alex, this is us.”_

_“Please…”_

_She moves closer, cradles Alex’s head against her chest as she whispers to her soothingly. It’s embarrassing, this position, but Alex breaks apart under her again, uncaring of what this position means for her in the grander scheme of things. This is Kara, after all, and Kara’s seen her at her worst, seen her in jealous hate, seen her begging for her to come back._

_There isn’t anything to hide from her, isn’t anywhere for her to go that Kara won’t follow. In a way, that in itself is reassurance enough._

* * *

 

Alex sighs as she checks the time. Maggie should be here by now but she knows that the job has to come first for both of them, knows that if this were anyone else, she’d have balked long before now, but she can’t. After everything, she owes her this much, at least, owes her something she never felt she’d been given herself in their relationship.

She paces the foyer, settles on the couch and turns on the television before turning it off again. By the time Maggie gets there ten minutes later, she’s back at the table, working on her latest reports for J’onn, mood finally settled by the act of recording and reporting her team’s finding from their last mission.

Maggie leans down, presses a kiss to her cheek before going to the fridge for a beer and settling down in front of her. Alex doesn’t look up until she’s finished the paragraph she’s working on, leans back in her seat and really looks at her.

She’s tired. Alex can see that immediately, can see the way her shoulders sag from the cutting of her holster, the way her fingers tap against the table as she drinks, always an indicator that Maggie wants something in them to curl around. She can see it in the corners of her eyes and the way they crinkle in exhaustion rather than laughter.

It seems almost cruel to do this now, seems like something disgusting and stupid, but she can’t go back. She can’t just sweep it under the rug and pretend like it isn’t there when the very act of doing so will hurt Kara more than she ever wants to hurt her.

She sighs. “I have something to tell you.”

Maggie looks at her and suddenly Alex feels small. She knows what she did is a betrayal, knows that she should never have let it happen in the first place, but she can’t be sorry about it. She refuses to regret being with Kara like that when it feels like the vice around her heart has finally, finally been completely lifted.

“Please tell me it isn’t what I think it is.”

“Mags, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it would happen but then it did and it felt…it felt like freedom.”

“Cheating on me felt like freedom?”

Alex pales, realizes how it sounds and shakes her head quickly.

“God no, Maggie. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it? Because this isn’t looking good for you at all, Danvers.”

Alex sighs. “It’s…all my life there’s been this pressure to succeed, pressure that increased when Kara got here and never really let up, but God. When Kara looks at me, it feels like it was never there, like somehow she’s managed to take it away, you know?”

Something in Maggie deflates and she nods. Alex wants to reach out, to offer her some form of comfort, but she can’t. It isn’t her place anymore, isn’t within her power to offer what Maggie so desperately needs.

She knows this, has accepted it, but that doesn’t make this easier, doesn’t make breaking her heart any easier than it is. She almost leaves it at that, almost lets her believe that that’s it, but she can’t. She has to explain, has to make her see what she does, has to get her to understand the why, not just the what of it all.

When it’s done, there are tears in Maggie’s eyes that she stubbornly won’t let fall. Alex reaches across then, wipes them away, and Maggie lets her. It’s an ending for them, in a way, but she doesn’t want it to be _the_ end, doesn’t want to lose Maggie in her life if she can avoid it as much as possible.

* * *

 

When she lets herself into the apartment, it’s dark. Kara hasn’t come back yet, isn’t home from patrol, but Alex doesn’t care. She needs to be here, to be where she knows Kara will feel comfortable. She needs to be here for when she returns, to show her that this is it, that this is what she’s chosen and she’s not running away, not anymore.

With a sigh, she sits on the couch, closes her eyes for a moment. She smells like alcohol and smoke, smells like the bar she’d been in for the last hour. She can’t do this, she thinks as she leans back, can’t keep pushing and pulling with Kara.

She gets up, makes her way to Kara’s room to change. Her clothes goes into the hamper, exchanged for a clean pair of pajama bottoms and an old Superman t-shirt. It’s a gag gift from Kara’s friends in Gotham, she thinks she remembers as she pulls it on, a reminder of all the things Kara had lost and gained on landing here.

Her shoulders drop, her stance shifting when she smells Kara’s scent on the shirt. Alex misses her, misses the way she would wrap around her, let herself be held. She misses Kara and everything she represents, and her heart aches at the thought that she’s in here in the dark, alone and adrift now that she’s shifted her life so thoroughly.

There’s a displacement of air around her, a whooshing sound as Kara lands and speeds through changing her clothes. When Alex can see her in the moonlight, she wrinkles her nose in apology.

“Gasoline tanker was in trouble. I showered at the D.E.O. but my uniform still smells.”

Alex shakes her head, pulls her in and presses a kiss to her cheek, glad that Kara’s alive, that she’s here with her and not alone, not with anyone else. That she’s grinning as Alex presses kisses to her face is just a bonus.

A familiar outline catches her eye and she can’t help but raise an eyebrow at Kara. She looks down, suddenly shy, and Alex has the urge to press her close, to kiss her until she can’t breathe. When she surfaces, breaks contact because of the burning in her lungs, she grins.

“Looks like we had the same idea, huh Supergirl?”

Kara pouts up at her. “It’s only fair since you stole mine. You don’t see me complaining about it?”

Alex laughs, kisses her again. “Who said I was complaining? I think you look good in my clothes. In fact, you’d look even better out of them.”

Kara grins. “Yeah? And you?”

Alex pecks her cheek and gets up, moving to the door.

“Oh no. I’m keeping this on. Wherever Barbara got this, she’s gotta give you the name of the place. It’s super comfortable.”

Kara whines. “That was really bad. Really, really bad.”

Alex smiles. She likes this, likes the way she feels free around Kara again. She likes the way she can make Kara smile so brightly, can draw out sounds she’d been hesitant to before. It’s something she’s missed, something she should never have given up. Looking at Kara, she doesn’t think she ever will again.


End file.
